


A Man of Intrigue

by sksdwrld



Series: Asterisk [20]
Category: Original Work
Genre: Dating, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-12
Updated: 2014-04-12
Packaged: 2018-01-19 02:43:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,512
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1452523
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sksdwrld/pseuds/sksdwrld
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Paul has ways of making Elliot talk.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Man of Intrigue

**Author's Note:**

> Elliot is about 34 here.

"Vodka tonic with lime," Elliot said as he leaned over the bar toward the tender. He felt the press of a hand against his lower back and a voice said from behind him:

"Make it two, please." A twenty dropped to the bar beside Elliot's elbow. Elliot straightened, turned and found himself face-to-face with Paul, the man from last Friday that he'd decided against calling. Elliot swallowed thickly as Paul said, "I know you, don't I?"

Paul's pointed look told Elliot that he knew exactly who he was. But he'd given Elliot a gentlemanly out. He considered Paul a moment and then nodded in confirmation. It seemed like the least he could do. "Elliot," he said with a nod, letting Paul know it was still okay to call him that. 

Paul took the drinks from the bartender and passed one over. "Paul," he replied in kind and then angled his head, indicating the tables. Elliot followed him over and set his drink down, turning it in circles as the condensation spilled down the side. Paul held his drink and looked at him a long while. Finally, he sipped and set his drink aside. "I was worried about you, you know." 

Frowning, Elliot cocked his head. "Why?" 

"I told you, that's not how I like to leave things." 

Elliot swallowed. "Should I have invited you in? I don't know you. We didn't make any arrangements...I wasn't anticipating...it was just an informal meeting." 

"It was supposed to be, anyway." Paul said over the music. "I still don't know what happened." 

Elliot squirmed uncomfortably. "I don't want to talk about it here." 

"You didn't call..." Paul replied, only marginally challenging the topic. 

"I didn't realize you expected me to," Elliot said, squeezing his lime into his drink and then stabbing it beneath the ice cubes with his cocktail straw. Paul made a face of exasperation and flashed his business card and Elliot rolled his eyes. "I thought you were just being nice."

"I am nice." Paul rested his chin on his palm, seemingly content to watch Elliot macerate his lime. After a minute, he reached out, stilling Elliot's hand. "Am I bothering you? Because I can go. I just...I wanted to reconnect after what happened. I had been thinking about asking you out after the meeting and I thought...I just wanted you to know, I'm still interested. But if you're not..."

"I'm sorry!" Elliot apologized suddenly, squeezing his eyes shut and pinching the bridge of his nose. "It's just so loud in here that it's hard for me to process what you're saying." 

"Do you want to go?" Paul offered, jerking his thumb toward the door. 

"Go where?"

"For coffee?"

Elliot looked down at himself. He had on black leather pants and a tight black shirt that had several randomly placed buckles and D-rings. It wasn't exactly cafe-appropriate garb. He must have had a look on his face because Paul laughed at him and tugged him by the elbow. "C'mon." 

"What about the drinks?" Elliot asked as stumbled after Paul, who was dressed much more discretely in black cotton trousers, a fitted V-necked shirt, and biker boots. 

Paul waved dismissively and left them where they were. He stopped at the coat check to pass in his numbered token and it reminded Elliot to do the same.

As Elliot was shrugging his coat on, Paul stepped up behind him and tugged the leather so that it slid into place with ease. Trying to pretend that that hadn't given him the shivers, he pulled his cigarette case out of his pocket and on the way out the door, offered it to Paul who declined. "Where are we going now?" Elliot said around his cigarette as he lit it. He took a long drag then turned his head, blowing the smoke away from Paul. 

"There's a diner a few blocks up if you don't mind the walk." 

"That's fine," Elliot said and pulled his jacket more tightly around himself. He didn't even like riding the train in club-wear. 

When they got to the diner, Paul flashed a smile at the waitress and picked a table at the rear. He grabbed one of the menus from behind the salt and pepper shakers and handed it to Elliot. 

"The blueberry pie is really fantastic," he said, almost expectantly. 

Elliot made a show of perusing the desserts list, although he was certain he couldn't eat right now. "I thought you just moved from Pittsburgh..." he smiled hesitantly. "How many times have you eaten here?" 

Paul only laughed and shook his head. "Twice since I've been back, but this place has been around a long time, and I used to come here back when I was in college." 

College was something that Elliot could talk about. He perked up and closed the menu. "Oh? Where did you go?" 

"Tufts," Paul said, passing another smile to the waitress as she approached. "Elliot, are you ready to order?" 

"I'll just have a tea, green, if you have it?" Elliot said, attempting to pass the menu to the waitress. 

Paul took it with a slight frown and tucked it behind the salt and pepper again. "That's it?" When Elliot nodded, Paul sighed. "Black coffee, please. And the blueberry pie, if you have it." 

The waitress left and Paul rubbed the tabletop with his thumb a moment. "What about you?" 

"What about me?" Elliot asked. 

"What brought you here? You're obviously not from the area either." 

"I went to Boston College," Elliot said smoothly, but reached to straighten the salt shaker. 

"And where did you live before that?" 

Elliot swallowed. There it was. "Ah, Connecticut." 

"Oh," Paul nodded. "I've been through there a couple of times. Parts of it are really nice. Where are you from?" 

"Meriden," Elliot replied and tried to redirect the conversation. "What did you study at Tufts?" 

"Oh, quantitative economics. Boring stuff, really." 

Elliot chuckled softly. "Art history wasn't as exciting as I thought it would be, either. I think, unless you've got some glamorous job, most majors are that way." 

"Probably," Paul agreed. "But we were all drawn to our respective fields for a reason. What made you choose yours?" 

Elliot looked into the distance, remembering. He smiled faintly. "My professor was a jerk and I knew I couldn't stand to take five more courses with him. Liam-my boyfriend at the time suggested I switch from English to Art History, so I did." 

"English, really? What did you want to do with that?" Paul moved his hands off of the tabletop as the waitress returned with their beverages and the pie. 

Shrugging again, Elliot reached for the packet of tea, turning it in his hands and letting the sharp paper corners dig into the creases of his fingers. "I don't know. I didn't know anything when I picked it. I had done a lot of writing and...I thought it would be easy." 

"Do you still write?" 

Elliot snorted softly and ripped the tea bag open. "Grants and proposals." 

Paul shook three sugar packets together, ripped off the tops and then poured them into his coffee. He unrolled his silverware from the napkin they'd been wrapped in and stirred thoughtfully. "So what do you do for fun?"

Elliot dunked the tea bag into his hot water, poking it with his index finger when it floated. Distracted, he murmured, "I don't do anything fun. I'm really quiet boring myself, as an entity."

"Bullshit," Paul said, just before taking a sip of his coffee. 

Elliot's head snapped up. There were only a few people who talked to him like that, and they were the ones that knew him well enough to do so. "Excuse me?" 

"I said bullshit. Everyone does something in their downtime that they enjoy.You're playing yourself off like there is nothing worth knowing about you. If you didn't want to come with me, you could have said so. If you don't want to be here, I'm not keeping you. But I think you're worth knowing, Elliot-in the span of two hours last week, you managed to intrigue me, so I hope you'll stay. And talk." Paul took another healthy swallow of coffee and then set his mug down to wait. 

Elliot sat dumbfounded and part of him really, really wanted to bail under the pressure but another part was hopelessly flattered and wanted to stay. It was that part that won. "I...intrigue you?" 

Paul relaxed back against his side of the booth, the corners of his mouth twitching with triumph. "Yes. You're mysterious."

Elliot scoffed but couldn't help smiling down at his tea cup. He dunked the teabag a few times.

"Tell me something interesting about yourself..." Paul prompted.

"Interesting?" Elliot squeezed the excess water water out of the teabag and reached across the table, snagging Paul's spoon and resting the teabag on it. He blew across his tea and sipped as he thought. Flicking his eyes up at Paul, he cracked a knowing grin. "I was a roadie for a rock band, once..."


End file.
